There have been only two golden ages of Czech design that Prague's burgeoning design community look upon with dewy-eyed nostalgia. The first was the Art Nouveau era, epitomised by the languid nymphs on the posters of Czech graphic artist Alphonse Mucha (the ones that, should anyone aged 30-plus need reminding, adorned a million teenagers' bedrooms in 70s Britain). Then there's a somewhat more obscure milestone: the Brussels Expo of 1958, in which Czech design - then enjoying a bravely modernist moment, despite the aesthetically unadventurous communist regime - briefly basked in international acclaim, garnering 27 gold medals.

The communist regime has a lot to answer for in terms of stifling creativity, says Michaela Kadnerova, editor of Czech, Wallpaper* -esque lifestyle magazine Dolce Vita . 'Design was dominated by the state. There was no reason to create things because the same designs were deemed useful for years.

'Under the communists, design was seen as bourgeois - frivolous icing on the cake,' says Jiri Macek, editor of style magazine Blok. 'The heroes then were the engineers and miners.' In Czech and English, and available from a number of UK outlets, including the Baltic at Gateshead and Zwemmers bookshop in London, Blok explores design, fashion and art in Europe, and so raises awareness of trends abroad. 'It's encouraging young Czechs to become more design-literate, and to be less in awe of design as status symbols, as many were immediately after the 1989 Velvet Revolution.'

That said, design in the Czech Republic is held back by the fact its culture is more literary than visual, says Macek. 'Books are read hungrily, but their covers have terrible designs.'

Still, in recent years, the international profile of Czech design - on sale in Prague in a growing number of hip outlets - has been boosted by its regular appearance at prestigious trade fairs around the world. Now it's set to get a major airing in London, with several galleries showcasing it - an event called Czech Mania, a joint initiative of Kadnerova and the Czech Centre, in London. Any clichéd ideas that Eastern European design is dully uniform will be dispelled by the variety of work, ranging from severely minimalist glassware to playful, stylishly kitsch ceramics. Ceramics and glassware specialist Vessel is showing the work of duo Olgoj Chorchoj in an exhibition called The Unpronounceable Olgoj Chorchoj. The name (pronounced 'ol-goy hor-hoy', an indescribably odd gurgling sound) is in fact meaningless, admit the waggish pair - furniture and interior designers Michal Fronek and Jan Nemecek. 'We chose it because it sounded cheerful.'

Their stunningly honed Twin-wall glass teapots and stackable glasses comprising two layers you can hold piping hot liquids in without burning yourself - on show at Vessel - are inspired by the Bauhaus, Czech cubist architecture and arch-minimalist Brit designer Jasper Morrison. This collection, which includes a vase, was manufactured by Kavalier Glassworks, a specialist in industrial-strength glass - hence its super-functional, ultra-fashionable chemistry-set look. The duo's uncompromisingly functionalist work, has, from the early 90s, defined itself in opposition to 80s postmodernism, which revived whimsical surface decoration.

But opulence gets a look-in too, with the Versace-glam work of Borek Sipek (for Italian company Driade), on show at Selfridges' Driade concession. A veteran craftsman, his clear glass bowls sprout jewel-bright droplets.

Most playful of all is the work of Maxim Velcovsky. In his designs, the precious collides with the banal, as in his white porcelain Wellington Boot vase, and the bombastically baroque with cool, modern technology, as in his LED clock. The latter is potentially carriage-clock, golden-handshake hell, but has been given an ultra-modern makeover. These can be seen at Applied Arts Agency, in a show with the groan-inducing, if irresistible, name, The Unbearable Whiteness of Being.